The Forever of Ella and Micha

Scott.” I climb out of the bed and drag my feet toward the bathroom. “Did you ever consider that this is who I am? That maybe you can’t save me because you’d have to save me from my own head?” I lock the door and collapse onto the floor, hugging my knees to my chest as thoughts race through my head.
    I wish he wasn’t here.
    I wish he would just let me go.
    I wish I didn’t have to wake up anymore and deal with life, because it hurts. It all hurts.
    Seconds later, someone knocks on the door. “Ella, open the God damn door before I break it down.”
    “I want to be left alone,” I snap. “I never asked you to come here, Micha.”
    “I know you didn’t,” he says softly through the door. “Lila called me because she was worried about you. And so am I. You act like you might be going back to that dark place again.”
    “I’m not. I promise.” I feel too drained to deal with anything else, so I crawl over to the shower and turn it on, letting the sound of the running water drown out his voice. It feels like I should be crying, but my eyes are dry.
    I lie on my back on top of the fuzzy purple rug on the floor and stare up at the small crack in the ceiling. I never expected him to come here. I wanted more preparation, but it’s time to face the inevitable.
    I’m letting him go. Cutting the strings. Because I love him that much.
    I made the decision on my way home, as my dad’s words continually haunted me. I want something better for Micha than a dark, murky future.
    Suddenly, the doorknob lock pops up. The door swings open and Micha stands in the doorway with a bent hanger in his hand.
    “What are you doing, pretty girl?” he asks, taking in the sight of me. “One minute we’re good and suddenly you’re shutting me out again.”
    Closing my eyes, I inhale, and then open them again, breathing out. “We need to talk.”
    He shakes his head, looking like he understands what’s coming. “No, we don’t, unless it’s about something happy.” He tosses the hanger into the sink and drops to his knees in front of me. “You can have your mood swings, but I’m not going to let you shut me out. It’ll blow over.”
    I prop myself up on my elbows. “No, it won’t. It’s part of me.” I muster a shaky breath. “I think we should break up.”
    Quickly shaking his head, he lies on top of me. “Stop it. I’m not going to let you do this. Just tell me what’s going on and I’ll try to fix it.”
    My whole body aches. “Nothing’s going on. I just don’t want to do this anymore. It’s getting tiring.”
    His eyes blaze with anger and he crashes his lips to mine, suffocating my thoughts momentarily as his tongue slips deep into my mouth. I kiss him back as his thumb runs along each one of my ribs, but when his hand heads down south, I snap back into reality and start to panic. I have to do something—anything—to make him hate me; otherwise he’ll never let me go and he has to let me go.
    Placing a hand on his chest, I gently push him away and look directly into his aqua eyes. “Micha, I cheated on you.”
    He rolls his eyes. “You’re so full of shit.”
    “I’m being serious.” I let my hand fall from his chest. “I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while, but I didn’t know how to.”
    He leans back. “No, you didn’t.”
    I sit up and tuck my legs under me, plucking at a thread on the rug. “Please don’t make this any harder than it is. I did it and I’m sorry… I didn’t plan it or anything. I was just drunk and it happened.”
    He’s starting to believe me and I feel like the world’s biggest asshole, but one day, when he’s married and has kids and he’s happy, this moment won’t matter to him.
    “Who was it with?” His voice is quiet, but quakes with rage.
    I force down the massive lump in my throat. “That doesn’t matter.”
    His gaze bores into me. “Yeah, it does.”
    My legs tremble as I stand up and turn off the shower. “I’m not going to tell you so that you can go beat the shit out of him.” I start to walk around him, but he sidesteps me, blocking my path as he puts a hand on each side of the doorway.
    “Look me in the eye and tell me you did it,” he growls. “Tell me that you fucking ripped out my heart and stomped on it.”
    My tongue feels like lead, but I manage to keep my voice steady. “I’m sorry, Micha. I really am. I’d take it back if I could, but no one can change the past.”
    Turning away from me, he punches a hole in